Of all the things Ezra could've expected from that stupid fucking luncheon, finding out that Billie had chosen someone else isn't one of them. He can't explain what comes over him as she confirms her fuck fest, but rage is the closest emotion the male can pinpoint.

He shouldn't give a fuck, except for the fact that he had waited for her far longer than he would ever admit. As she stares back at him for only a moment, Ezra can only remember the way she felt against him.

Her moans. The way her skin felt against his mouth. How she begged him to tell her how much he wanted her.

How the fuck did he read the situation so wrong? Yet, as she continues to confirm their inquiries, Ezra begins to piece it all together. Billie didn't want to actually fuck him. She just wanted another shot at his game, and, like a horny fucking idiot, he fell right into her trap.

Jude's request to follow him out towards the back alley for a smoke comes as no surprise. He'd been giving him the cold shoulder ever since he showed up at the bus early in the morning before they left for Nashville.

As they turn the corner away from the group, Jude immediately shifts his demeanor. "Are you gonna tell me what the fuck just happened?"

Ezra looks at him blankly, fingers reaching for two cigarettes before handing one to the other. "I don't know what you mean."

"You didn't sleep with her," Jude states, not really asking after what had just occurred. "You didn't come home last night and neither did she, but you two weren't together."

"We were just dancing," Ezra points out before lighting up, "Why would I fuck her?"

"You've fucked for less," he reminds with the cigarette nestled in between his lips. He motions for the lighter, and Ezra hands it off.

"You already heard who she slept with. Why are you interrogating me? Go ask Manny about it, if you're so curious."

"It's Monte," he corrects, and Ezra nearly scoffs. Though he's attempting to display indifference, it's difficult when the other makes mention of the man who actually got to touch her.

For a moment, his mind remains caught on the idea that this guy got to hear those moans too. He wondered if she was as desperate and needy with the photographer as she was with him on that dance floor.

"We didn't sleep together," he replies bitterly. As he puffs on his cigarette for a moment, Ezra adds, "But why would it matter to you if we did?"

"Ezra," the guitarist warns, "Don't fuckin' start this with me."

"You're the one so goddamn worried about what I'm doing with her, so tell me why," he presses before realizing that Jude hasn't taken one draw from his cigarette.

"You know why. Don't make me say it."

"It's not like that," he assures before tipping his chin towards the sky to let the smoke out from his lungs.

"Yes, it is," he assures, "This isn't just some girl you can throw aside. If you fuck her, we are ruining our chances of this tour going well."

"And why's that?" Ezra scoffs, tone teasing.

"Because she's not going to put up with your bullshit," he assures, and Ezra can't help the smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. That's one fucking thing Jude's got right.

"Wipe that smile off your face. You're not fuckin' slick. It's going to take one accident before it gets out that you two have some sort of thing," he warns, "And we know where that's headed."

"Oh, I get it," Ezra replies dryly, "You think this is another Madison situation. You think I'm going to fall in love with some girl that wants nothing to do with me and spiral all over again."

"Glad you're catching on. Do me a favor, and stay away from her," he states in a tone that would be intimidating to anyone else but the singer.

"Are you not listening?" Ezra questions with a chuckle before his features grow cold, "I didn't fuck her. She's obviously interested in that photographer, so why don't you bark up his tree instead of mine?"

"Because I don't give a fuck about that guy's feelings, Ez. I care about yours."

"Don't tell me you think I like her or some shit."

"Well, do you?" Ezra pauses for a moment too long, and it causes Jude to let out a long, exasperated sigh before he flicks his unsmoked cigarette to the ground. "It's like you don't want to get better."

This causes an unexpected pang in the singer's chest. He flickers his attention to the floor in an attempt to save face, but it's no use. "Don't talk to me like you give a shit, Jude," he mutters.

"You're so dense that you can't see that I do give a shit. And Billie is not the solution you think she is. This infatuation you have with women who you think know what you're struggling with is a nasty habit that will only disappoint you."

"You really think I'm searching for solutions in some pussy?" Ezra scoffs.

"You did once, and look what happened," Jude reminds with a kind of seriousness he hasn't seen in some time.

"She's not like Madison," he points out, unsure what kind of point he's trying to make now.

"Yeah, but you're you. And I don't want to ever get that phone call again."

Ezra freezes entirely at the mention of that night, lips pressing together firmly as his complexion goes white. "I told you already," he states sternly, "I didn't fuck her."

"And you won't."

"I haven't worked for pussy in years," Ezra lies, "So, why would I start doing that now? She clearly doesn't like me."

"Good. You'll thank yourself for it when we all come out of this tour successfully. Don't make us crash and burn over something you can avoid."

"So, you're not gonna fuck Callie, right?" Ezra spits back, causing Jude to flinch.

"Don't talk about her like that," he warns, which automatically shows his hand to Ezra.

"Oh, so we can talk about some guy balls deep in Billie, but Callie is off limits?" He questions with a scoff, "That's fuckin' rich."

"I'm not ruining anything over some stupid hook up, if that's what you're asking."

"No, I wasn't really asking that because either way you're putting this tour at as much risk as I am by pursuing her."

"Except you're you, and I'm me."

"Exactly, both of us aren't the type to have things end well."

"I could be that type," Jude corrects with a shrug.

"No, you couldn't," Ezra assures, "Besides, she's too good for you anyways."

"You don't have to tell me what I already know."

"Are we done here?" He questions impatiently, mind itching for some sort of fix, "I've spent more time talking about girlcrush just now than I have in the last two months. So, sorry if I'm a little tired of the subject."

"Whatever, Ez," Jude replies dismissively before pushing past him and heading back towards the group. "Just keep your dick in your pants."

As Ezra stands alone, he can't help but wonder how things had changed so dramatically from last night. He's at a loss, truly. One minute she's practically riding his leg, and the next she's ghosting him for some random guy's dick. Is there something he's missing here?

Yet, her words from last night echo in his mind. 'Words don't mean much to me. You have to prove it.' Is that what she wanted? Some sort of grand gesture outside her bus last night? Or, more obviously, was Billie just not that interested in him?

He didn't lie to Jude when he said he hadn't worked for a girl in years, but he did lie when he said he wouldn't work for Billie. Something inside him desperately wants to prove her wrong, wants to show her that he's the kind of man that can fight for something he wants.

But, truthfully, Ezra isn't quite sure if he's that kind of person anymore. She makes him want to try, but fear of failure keeps him standing in this alleyway far longer than he intends.

Instead of returning to the luncheon, he decides to head back to the bus for his fix.